Obi Wan and the Speeder or, Why He Hates Senators
by Small J
Summary: He hated parties. He hated senators. Jedi didn't hate, but he hated them all the same. Obi-Wan is forced to behave at a senate gala when all he wants to mayhem so he can sneak out. Watch what you wish for, little Jedi. 5/6 editing
1. Punishment

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ I do not own Star Wars. If I did, we would have had a TV series about Obi-Wan in his youth a long time ago!

As it is, George owns it all.

_**Author's Note:**_ This story is a sort of story trade with my Best friend. She is writing her first FanFiction and I said I would try to write something as well. I honestly have no idea how this idea came about but once its in my head, I might as well get it out. Originally, this was a one chapter thing, but as I started writing I realized that I wouldn't be possible. I cant' imagine it more then 2 or three sections, though.

Also, I am trying to edit as I write so please forgive me any mistakes. If you find anything glaringly obvious, please tell me! I can't catch all my mistakes and any help I can get is loved.

**EDIT 5/6/10:**

I am going though and changing the way mental speaking looks. Instead of bolding it I am putting it in italics. I do need to keep it separate from inner monologue so I am still putting it with back slashes. Let me know if it works smoother.

_//talking through the link//_

_Inner Monologue_

So, on with the story! May the force me with you.

* * *

The acrid smoke wafted from the silver decking. Atop the floating platform rested the mangled remains of a once proud personal hover craft. Gold and silver painted durasteel twisted in a morbid dace of intimacy with jagged cut wires and safety gears. Sector police sauntered about the wreck, scratching at their datapads, intend on full documentation.

It wasn't like Obi-Wan wanted to crash the craft. In all honesty, he admitted, he simply wanted to land it. Plans, though, never went as he desired them. Thinking back, Obi-Wan had begun to notice a trend of failed plans. Though he loved his master greatly, the whole failed plans thing started the second he became the older Jedi's apprentice.

"Young man," clipped an officer, striding to the ginger-blond Jedi, "does this belong to you?"

Obi-Wan calmly glanced at the smoking heap on the deck and then back at the officer. "Technically," he began, "it belongs to the Jedi temple."

The officer glared at the youth. "Technically," growled the officer, removing his tinted shades "you were the one driving it, not the Jedi temple. I want your name and an identification and I want it now."

Obi-Wan sighed, reaching into his belt for the cards the officer had demanded. Reflecting back, he realized that this really was his master's fault. It had to be.

It had been a wonderful day to start out. The council had called them to a meeting at a relatively early hour. His master, Qui-Gon Jinn, was just finishing his meditation while Obi-Wan had decided to make a fresh pot of tea for the aging master. Both were interrupted from their individual musings by the annoying buzz of the comm. unit. Being closer of the two, Obi-Wan was the one to answer.

"Kenobi." He stated formally.

"Apprentice Kenobi." The sound was the clipped and graveled tone most protocol droids found themselves stuck with. "Apprentice Kenobi and Master Jinn are to report to the council chambers in 30 standard minutes for an informal briefing."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes to the low ceiling. Behind him, his master chortled and smirked, knowing the irritation his apprentice exuded. "Understood." He responded in a huff of air. The receiver clicked and buzzed, signaling that the droid had disconnected almost the moment the young Jedi had acknowledged.

Spinning around, Obi-Wan leveled his stare at his now grinning master. "That isn't—"

"Funny. Yes I know, but it is almost cute how offended you get when they cut you off." Qui-Gon continued to smile, humored by his apprentice's glare. Watching intently as the boy stalked back to the small dinning area, Qui-Gon reviled as his apprentice calmed his breathing and released his irritation. Qui-Gon nodded his head, silently proud of his student. Only 14-standard years and already he had made great strides. He watched his student of 3-years pad about the dinning area, and now the kitchen, preparing tea. He was short of his age and species, but had no trouble for it. Obi-Wan may have looked like a wamp-rat in his baggy robes, but he never moved like it. The boy had grown in the past few years. In fact, if the graying master were to be honest, Obi-Wan was blooming faster then a weed. Other masters would often brag about the progress of their students. Qui-Gon, though, didn't have to. He simply had to sit in the observations decks of any sparring room and bask in the envious discussion of his latest student. _It isn't vanity_ he told himself. _I simply need to see where he is excelling and where he isn't when I am not around_.

"Master if you stare at my back in longer I'm going to question your motives."

Qui-Gon cleared his thought, watching the world dissolve back into place. It had only been a moment but it was shameful how fast his mind had derailed from the present. He could hear Master Yoda chastise him and feel the sting of the walking stick on his shins. He winced. Obi-Wan had his back turned, pouring tea. He moved with such fluid grace that the elder questioned if he had spoken at all.

_//I did speak, master// _the aged Jedi heard through his link with the boy, _//am I going to have to hit you with something? You are preoccupied and I'm a little worried//_

The younger Jedi paused in his ritual tea making to stare at his master. "Well?" he asked, clearly demanding he be answered. Qui-Gon laughed.

"Since when did you sound like me, my apprentice?"

The young man had the common decency to blush at the thought before turning to pick up the tea. "Drink fast," he warned, "we only have 20 minutes." With that said, he leaned back against the cabinet and sipped his bitter drink.

The briefing had, indeed, been informal. Only a few of the esteemed masters had attended. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were to attend a formal gala put on by the senate every year—as punishment. Yoda had smiled the entire time Master Windu had rattled off the most recent list of grievances. Crushing another masters prized flower in the garden during a rather exuberant sparring match, breaking into another students locker to change the combination manually, spilling paint on a visiting senator "accidentally" only moments after she had insulted Obi-Wan's "oh so small hind-end" being only a few of the many.

Qui-Gon allowed a side-long glance at his apprentice. The boy was trying his best to keep the mask of calm acceptance on his face, but inside was another story. He was angry, irritated and humored. Qui-Gon placed a reassuring hand on the boys shoulder, feeling the muscle relax almost instantly. Giving a soft squeeze, he let his hand fall, tucking it safely into his robe, crossed formally along his chest.

"Of course, my masters." He bowed while Master Windu took a breath. There was no way he was going to let the dark skinned master finish his laundry list of crimes. His darker friend looked far too amused.

"We will be there, promptly, dress robes pressed."

Master Yoda rose a clawed hand, noticing Qui-Gon's tell-tail retreat. "A moment, I must have. Behave, you will. A speeder you will borrow. Picking up the senator at her quarters, you are."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes tight. There was only one senator that would be so brash as to demand a Jedi escort to an event on her home planet. He only hoped there would not be any paint near the building this time.

"Behave, you WILL, Obi-Wan. Represent the Jedi in its full capacity you must. Honorable you are, but as stubborn as your master you are turning. Disappoint us, you will not." With that spoken, the green-toned master hit is walking stick against the floor. The room echoed, the sound no longer muffled by the sounds of a dozen robes.

Obi-Wan bowed, not wishing to be disrespectful, but having no wish to speak his mind and anger the small master.

As the two reprimanded Jedi trudged from the chambers, heading to their own apartment to change, Obi-Wan Kenobi could only feel a creeping dread through the force.

_I have a bad feeling about this_

--end part 1—


	2. Bantha Tunic

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Star Wars. It is sad, but I don't. I shall now destroy the fandom with silly fan fiction

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** This story is a sort of story trade with my Best friend. She is writing her first FanFiction and I said I would try to write something as well. I honestly have no idea how this idea came about but once its in my head, I might as well get it out. Originally, this was a one-chapter thing, but as I started writing I realized that I wouldn't be possible. With any luck it will only be a few chapters. They are short chapters, anyway.

Also, I am trying to edit as I write so please forgive me any mistakes. If you find anything glaringly obvious, please tell me! I can't catch all my mistakes and any help I can get is loved.

**EDIT 5/6/10:** Making small edits and formatting.

_//talking through the link//_

_Inner monologue_

Sorry for any OOCness. I don't know what it is about these two, but they like to be silly. I think Obi-Wan's youth brings out the best in anyone. Besides, I hate dark broody Qui-Gon that people constantly write.

* * *

"Uugh! This tunic smells like a bantha! What did they wash it in, urine?"

Qui-Gon grimaced from his room. This would be a very long night, he could tell. Even closing his mental shields, he could feel the teenager's frustration and irritation seeping through the very walls of their apartment. He adjusted his collar and was once more reminded why he hated dress robes.

The robes themselves were immaculate. The light tan color in a smooth silky texture was heavenly. It draped in sweeping folds along his knees, partially covering the form fitting leggings of matching color tucked neatly into shining boots. Qui-Gon's sleeves were shorter then he would have liked, though. Being able to fold his arms into his robe had always been a comforting gesture for him. Now, the sleeves cut short on top, ending just below his elbow, and hung low around the back, brushing his wrist. He was happy, however, for the tight black undershirt covering his lower arms. If it wasn't insulting enough, his lightsaber was hidden in a leg holster under the long folds of the tunic. Of course, the tunic was slit to the belt for easy access, but the weapon would not be flashed around the room. At the very least it wouldn't be making guests uncomfortable. The tunic had enough material to hide the saber even when walking. In fact, one wouldn't even notice the slit at all had they no knowledge of it already. It wasn't like a Jedi, in his opinion. Hiding a weapon was one thing, but he felt ridicules in the sleek material. He felt more then content in his dusty travel robes.

Drawers slammed against the wall in the room next to Qui-Gon. He understood the sentiment, but that didn't stop him from being the good master he was. Tugging at the high double collar once more, he made for his apprentice's room. Knocking on the heavy metal door he asked, "Do you need any help, my irritated one?"

The sounds of slamming cabinets ceased. For a moment, the whole of the apartment was silent. Qui-Gon waited.

"No, master. I'm sorry. I shouldn't take my frustration out on the furniture."

Qui-Gon leaned against the wall beside his charges door. Reaching out to their bond, he brushed his students mind. The irritation was still there, but he could see the attempt to release it. There was no anger there, no malice towards the council or their decision. Only a small amount of peace and contentment of past sins dissolved. It was refreshing to Qui-Gon. Had this been his first apprentice he knew he would have had to lecture all the way to the senator's apartment.

The sudden flare of fresh irritation invaded his mind and he recoiled, closing his eyes tight. Pulling back, he realized he had still been touching Obi-Wan's own mind. Obi-Wan had enough of the elder's former student in the three years of his apprenticeship that being compared to him, even if it was to show he was better then the dark student, annoyed the younger man. He didn't have to prove he was better then the betrayer, he already knew he was, but it stung a little when his master thought of his old learner.

_//I'm sorry about that, Obi-Wan. You don't need to get upset. It was a passing thought//_

The door swished open in a burst of pressured air. Obi-Wan stood in the doorway, looking at his master. Smiling, he said, "I know. Just like my irritation was fleeting. You need to learn when a brush of the mind is a brush and when it is a stand-and-stare."

The graying master laughed. "Where have I heard that before?" he asked, amusement lighting his eyes.

"Don't go there, Master." The student mumbled, dodging his masters attempt to snake the long braid hanging behind his ear.

Laughing, he appraised his student. The dress robes were similar to his own though they were a pale gray, almost white tone, instead of his own light tan. He had to admit, the color suited his student's skin tone and hair better. The same shades would have brought out the aged master's gray hair far too much. On Obi-Wan, though, the tone made his pale skin look a bit more flush and his hair a bit more dirty blond. The speckling of red sprouting from around the brownish-blond gave a slight exotic look. Qui-Gon was impressed. For all the bickering and childishness that had past in the last hour of cleaning up, his student could look presentable, even if he didn't want to.

With the grace of years of training, Qui-Gon slipped back to his student's room opening the wardrobe and pulled out a pale cloak. Walking back to the living area he shook his head. Obi-Wan stood in front of the full-length mirror, tugging at the double collar. While it pained him to no ends, Qui-Gon resisted the urge to tug at his own high collar. He had to set an example, of course. Slipping behind his apprentice, Qui-Gon motioned for Obi-Wan's arm. With minimal fuss, he helped Obi-Wan into his robe before shrugging his own on. Obi-Wan, for his part, tugged his master's belt to the side, arranging the clasp to the front where it belonged. Having accomplished this, he pulled the back of his master's collar, unfolding it from where it had tucked in.

"Have I an apprentice or a wife, Obi-Wan?" He asked as his padawan pulled and adjusted the irritating collar.

Without pausing in his task of making his master presentable he chimed, "No woman could put up with you, my master, so how would you manage a wife?"

The master snorted. "You do wonders for my aging esteem, apprentice."

"Your welcome, Master. Now hold still, you've made a mess of your hair. You look like a wamprat pulled through a knot-hole backwards."


	3. Lesson Time

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Thank you very much to those who have added this charming little story to their favorites list or story alert list. I will try my very best to update in a timely fashion. What you need to know is that I am in school so I don't always have a lot of time. That would, really, explain why the chapters are so short. I am sorry for those who like long thought out chapters but I just don't have the time. In all honesty, by the time I get done with this I could probably shove it all into one or two long chapters but….I wouldn't have had the hours required to think that far in advance.

Anyway—thank you for the support, the brutal honesty and the 5 minutes of attention reading my meek little chapters take. Stick with me through this journey! May the force be with you.

**General notices:**

Editing as of 5/6/10**.** I am fixing some small errors and attempting to get the formatting right. Mind speaking is being smoothed out.**  
**

_//talking through the link// _

_Inner monologue_

Sorry for any OOCness. I don't know what it is about these two, but they like to be silly. I think Obi-Wan's youth brings out the best in anyone. Besides, I hate dark broody Qui-Gon that people constantly write.

* * *

Qui-Gon grinned. Almost. He had been having far too much fun today and it was all his apprentice's fault.

Obi-Wan fidgeted in his seat behind the steering column of the speeder.

Qui-Gon, for his part, looked straight ahead, unblinking through the front glass.

Another fidget. This time his apprentice pulled and tugged at his tunic, attempting to unbunch the long material from around his back. Finally freeing himself from the uncomfortable bunching, the light haired youth set about adjusting the side mirrors.

As the young man fidgeted and squirmed, the old Jedi sat, waiting.

_Breathe in, breathe out. Calm your mind. Feel the blood slowly flow, heart to lungs. It branches out to arms and tingles along finger tips….breathe._

Obi-Wan's frown twitched.

"While this is an excellent exercise in patience," mumbled a deep voice, "I must ask: When are we leaving the temple?"

The deep, soothing voice cut through the fog the young Jedi had found his mind in. Looking at the chrono settled flush against the lower front paneling his frown ticked once more. 10-minutes. He had been fussing with the speeder to over 10-minutes. Sighing deeply, he closed his eyes.

"Calm, Obi-Wan, do not think. Let the world flow as it will."

Leaning back, Obi-Wan inhaled deeply through his nose, exhaling a moment later in a shaking breath. Reaching out with his mind, he felt the anamorphic flow of the force moving silently and swiftly around him. Reaching farther, he brushed the sensitive mist gently tugging it's tendrils. Ever so slowly, the young student felt the light wrap around his mind in a comforting embrace. Inhaling once more, he released a clear breath, forgetting his restlessness.

"Very good, apprentice. What were you feeling?" The aged man continued to look straight ahead, his body resting lightly back in the soft seat.

Obi-Wan thought a moment before saying "Restless, Master."

Qui-Gon nodded. "About what, then?"

"The party, the senator. What I'm supposed to do." Obi-Wan, who by now had found the sense to start the speeder, twisted in his seat, watching the parking structure behind him carefully as he backed the out of the confining space.

Qui-Gon did smile this time and glanced into a side mirror, watching a pillar inch closer to their bumper. "I do not think that is restlessness," he said, "try again. What were you feeling?"

Tapping the breaks softly, Obi-Wan switched gears. The muffled clicking of the gear shaft found itself drowned out by the fast moving air and the whine of the engine as the speeder propelled forward.

Obi-Wan thought once more. _The last time I saw her I dumped paint on her. She insulted me and swore I would regret it. Do Jedi regret? Yes, I'm sure. But I don't believe I regret it. I am simply…oh!_

"I'm worried, master. I wonder what will happen, what she will say, what her plans are. She requested Jedi escorts. While she can't know it would be us, requesting an armed escort to an event hosted every year by the senate she sits on is strange. She is plotting something. I can sense it but at the same time, I can't." That stated, the apprentice took a chance to glance at his master before turning his eyes to the speeding traffic lines.

Qui-Gon nodded sagely, knowing his student had enough sense to figure out such a simple request. It wouldn't have been the first time he had confused the cause and the effect. "Very good," complimented the master Jedi before adding, "do not be so fast to judge yourself. You must think clearly to determine the deepest emotion, not simply the effect it causes."

"Yes, master."

"Further," lectured the wise man, "You must keep your mind here and now. While we must be mindful of the future, we cannot let it cloud our present. For example, we are ten minutes late leaving. Now, we will be late to pick up the senator. Whatever plans she has may be far worse for being late. Do you understand?"

"Yes, master. In worrying about what could possibly go wrong, I may have, in fact, made the situation worse. Keep your mind in the present and the force will warn you if there is any really danger. Be mindful, but do not dwell."

Once more nodding, Qui-Gon looked beyond the line of speeders to the high rising structures beyond. Standing proud in all its glory glistened the senator's apartment structure. Maneuvering the craft, Obi-Wan settled them into the loading zone. Blazing to the left, the sign proudly declared the building the Droom Tower. The lighting flickered on and off a moment before burning steady.

"Master?" Questioned the youth, tugging childishly at his Masters sleeve.

"Yes?"

"Tell me you saw that."

A sculpted eyebrow rose, "Saw what, my apprentice?"

"I swear," muttered the youth, "That sign just said Doom tower."

* * *

-end part 3-

wow. I seem to have a thing for 3 pages. Obi-Wan just got a lesson and it was fun to write. See you for the next chapter when you meet….the Senator of DOOM!

I mean…Droom!


	4. Anything but that

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Thank you very much to those who have added this charming little story to their favorites list or story alert list. I will try my very best to update in a timely fashion. What you need to know is that I am in school so I don't always have a lot of time. That would, really, explain why the chapters are so short. I am sorry for those who like long thought out chapters but I just don't have the time. In all honesty, by the time I get done with this I could probably shove it all into one or two long chapters but….I wouldn't have had the hours required to think that far in advance.

Anyway—thank you for the support, the brutal honesty and the 5 minutes of attention reading my meek little chapters take. Stick with me through this journey! May the force be with you.

**General notices:**

Editing as of 5/6/10**.** I am fixing some small errors and attempting to get the formatting right. Mind speaking is being smoothed out.**  
**

_//talking through the link// _

_Inner monologue_

Sorry for any OOCness. I don't know what it is about these two, but they like to be silly. I think Obi-Wan's youth brings out the best in anyone. Besides, I hate dark broody Qui-Gon that people constantly write.

* * *

Qui-Gon grinned. Almost. He had been having far too much fun today and it was all his apprentice's fault.

Obi-Wan fidgeted in his seat behind the steering column of the speeder.

Qui-Gon, for his part, looked straight ahead, unblinking through the front glass.

Another fidget. This time his apprentice pulled and tugged at his tunic, attempting to unbunch the long material from around his back. Finally freeing himself from the uncomfortable bunching, the light haired youth set about adjusting the side mirrors.

As the young man fidgeted and squirmed, the old Jedi sat, waiting.

_Breathe in, breathe out. Calm your mind. Feel the blood slowly flow, heart to lungs. It branches out to arms and tingles along finger tips….breathe._

Obi-Wan's frown twitched.

"While this is an excellent exercise in patience," mumbled a deep voice, "I must ask: When are we leaving the temple?"

The deep, soothing voice cut through the fog the young Jedi had found his mind in. Looking at the chrono settled flush against the lower front paneling his frown ticked once more. 10-minutes. He had been fussing with the speeder to over 10-minutes. Sighing deeply, he closed his eyes.

"Calm, Obi-Wan, do not think. Let the world flow as it will."

Leaning back, Obi-Wan inhaled deeply through his nose, exhaling a moment later in a shaking breath. Reaching out with his mind, he felt the anamorphic flow of the force moving silently and swiftly around him. Reaching farther, he brushed the sensitive mist gently tugging it's tendrils. Ever so slowly, the young student felt the light wrap around his mind in a comforting embrace. Inhaling once more, he released a clear breath, forgetting his restlessness.

"Very good, apprentice. What were you feeling?" The aged man continued to look straight ahead, his body resting lightly back in the soft seat.

Obi-Wan thought a moment before saying "Restless, Master."

Qui-Gon nodded. "About what, then?"

"The party, the senator. What I'm supposed to do." Obi-Wan, who by now had found the sense to start the speeder, twisted in his seat, watching the parking structure behind him carefully as he backed the out of the confining space.

Qui-Gon did smile this time and glanced into a side mirror, watching a pillar inch closer to their bumper. "I do not think that is restlessness," he said, "try again. What were you feeling?"

Tapping the breaks softly, Obi-Wan switched gears. The muffled clicking of the gear shaft found itself drowned out by the fast moving air and the whine of the engine as the speeder propelled forward.

Obi-Wan thought once more. _The last time I saw her I dumped paint on her. She insulted me and swore I would regret it. Do Jedi regret? Yes, I'm sure. But I don't believe I regret it. I am simply…oh!_

"I'm worried, master. I wonder what will happen, what she will say, what her plans are. She requested Jedi escorts. While she can't know it would be us, requesting an armed escort to an event hosted every year by the senate she sits on is strange. She is plotting something. I can sense it but at the same time, I can't." That stated, the apprentice took a chance to glance at his master before turning his eyes to the speeding traffic lines.

Qui-Gon nodded sagely, knowing his student had enough sense to figure out such a simple request. It wouldn't have been the first time he had confused the cause and the effect. "Very good," complimented the master Jedi before adding, "do not be so fast to judge yourself. You must think clearly to determine the deepest emotion, not simply the effect it causes."

"Yes, master."

"Further," lectured the wise man, "You must keep your mind here and now. While we must be mindful of the future, we cannot let it cloud our present. For example, we are ten minutes late leaving. Now, we will be late to pick up the senator. Whatever plans she has may be far worse for being late. Do you understand?"

"Yes, master. In worrying about what could possibly go wrong, I may have, in fact, made the situation worse. Keep your mind in the present and the force will warn you if there is any really danger. Be mindful, but do not dwell."

Once more nodding, Qui-Gon looked beyond the line of speeders to the high rising structures beyond. Standing proud in all its glory glistened the senator's apartment structure. Maneuvering the craft, Obi-Wan settled them into the loading zone. Blazing to the left, the sign proudly declared the building the Droom Tower. The lighting flickered on and off a moment before burning steady.

"Master?" Questioned the youth, tugging childishly at his Masters sleeve.

"Yes?"

"Tell me you saw that."

A sculpted eyebrow rose, "Saw what, my apprentice?"

"I swear," muttered the youth, "That sign just said Doom tower."

* * *

-end part 3-

wow. I seem to have a thing for 3 pages. Obi-Wan just got a lesson and it was fun to write. See you for the next chapter when you meet….the Senator of DOOM!

I mean…Droom!


	5. Arm Candy

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

I don't own Star Wars or the characters but I do own this story and any original characters so no touchie unless you ask and let you. Thank you.

Sorry for any OOCness. I don't know what it is about these two, but they like to be silly. I think Obi-Wan's youth brings out the best in anyone. Besides, I hate dark broody Qui-Gon that people constantly write.

* * *

_//I'm going to die. I am simply going to die//_

The reporters hounded him for a question or two as he walked into the hotel. He suddenly regretted his absolved sins. Behind them, Qui-Gon fumed. It was a wonder the reporters hadn't noticed the fire burning his eyes.

The senator smiled, digging her nails into the apprentice's arm. Any Jedi would have given her more attention then she could dream of. No one would have protested. No, they wouldn't make a scene. Finding the Jedi apprentice she was stuck with was Obi-Wan, well, now she could be even more wicked then she wanted and he couldn't do a thing about it. She dug into his thinly covered arm again.

"Now listen closely," she purred, leaning in to rest her head on his shoulder, "You are going to behave, you are going to pretend you are enjoying yourself and you are not going to leave my side unless I let you. You are my date for the night, and that's that."

Obi-Wan lifted his unoccupied arm to rest his linked hand, locking them elbow-to-elbow. He smiled, nodding at a few guests as they passed. "Why are you doing this? Revenge for the paint?" No use trying to edge anything. Qui-Gon had taught him that there was a time and place for subtlety —this wasn't it.

"I want attention. Whenever I go to these events, do you know who gets all the attention?" The lacing of malice was back, edged with despair. The combination was potent and invaded Obi-Wan's senses.

The young apprentice tightened his hands together and tried for a guess. "The Jedi?" he asked, starting to sense where this would end.

She smiled, "There you are, princess. You are smart."

Stretching out his senses, Obi-Wan brushed his master's end of the link. He was greeted with irritation and a ting of anger. Obi-Wan, knowing his master couldn't here her whispers, had allowed the conversation to bleed through the link. His master was not happy. They both knew they could not make a scene. If Obi-Wan rejected the senator in front of the press her reputation would be wounded. There was no telling what it would do for the Jedi, or Obi-Wan's own reputation individually. The press, unfortunately, were allowed into the building on certain exceptions. The senate needed to maintain their standing, so a few members of the press were often chosen to report from inside the ball room. That is, after they finished outside. Needless to say, even in the main ballroom Obi-Wan couldn't reject the senator.

Entering the main ballroom, the trio nodded and greeted guests among the chatter. Most of the chatter, much to Qui-Gon's dismay, was about the Red-haired senator and her charming Jedi date.

* * *

Obi-Wan was bored. He was annoyed and bored. Most of all, we was beginning to hate the senator, regardless of the code.

"—and the whole paint can just slipped right onto my head!"

The surrounding circle laughed joyously at the tale. The senator had, of course, left out the part when she insulted the young Jedi. It was also noted that the paint had merely slipped off the ladder it was set on, no mention of the bump from Obi-Wan's shoulder. _All for the better,_ he thought, looking out over the room. His master had been waved off early. She didn't need "big daddy" watching them on their date. His master was managing to have a good time, at least. Currently, the old Jedi was sipping some sort of orange fizzy drink in a long flute glass, chatting with the Governor of Antronia.

Claws grabbed his elbow, digging into the already abused flesh. Even with the thin undershirt across his arms, he could feel himself bruising.

"Come now, love, you haven't said a word all afternoon, I'm starting to think you are having a bad time." The claws sunk in deeper.

He smiled, "No, _senator_, I was just contemplating. You are so…charming, when you tell that story. I've lost count of the times today. Was is 13 or 14?"

The gathered group chuckled and giggled. Chairman Yuu patted the Jedi's back in hard slaps, almost knocking him over. "Such a sense of humor Jedi have! Now Senator Bali, I believe you owe me a new drink. Come, let us find something." With that, he and the rest of the small group departed in search of drink.

"That, was not called for. But I suppose you have been good. Go, get something to eat, drink, I don't care, just be back in 10 minutes or I'll find you and make it worse." With that, the fire-headed senator released the Jedi's arm. Pushing him a little in the direction of the food as she left to mingle.

The fair-haired Jedi mumbled under his breathe as he walked to the long table set across the sidewall. Spotting a twi'lek behind the long line sped up his pace.

Desperately, he said "tell me you have something strong enough to knock me out."

The blue tinted twi'lek laughed. "Only if you are 16." She smiled sadly at the boy.

"Damn it. What you will, then."

The twi'lek turned behind her to gather a clear fizzing drink. Turning around she passed the bubbling drink to Obi-Wan and said "Its cider, don't ask what kind, trust me. I am Numa Che, you are the Jedi, Obi-Wan, yes?"

Grateful for the drink, Obi-Wan took a long drink, not caring what it was in the least. The fizz tickled his nose making him smile and wrinkle his nose.

"Yes," he said, "I am. It is nice to meet you Numa." He sipped slower, watching the bubbles through the crystal.

"I feel sorry for you. She is a horrible person. What possessed you to date that…ugly thing?"

Obi-Wan felt like jumping the table and hugging the blue creature. For the first time since he had arrived someone was openly on his side. He glanced at his master, farther down the line, helping Princess A'ne pick out a tart. Glancing behind him he spotted his worst nightmare chatting with the chancellor. Looking back, he smiled the first genuine smile of the whole gala.

"I'm not. I was the attention getter she needed and an arm candy to boot. Besides, she might say the same thing about you being ugly, you know."

Numa laughed. It was a musical sound like bells chiming in a soft breeze. "That may be true, but I still think she is ugly. I am sorry you have been trapped by her. You must have done something wonderful to make her latch on to you so."

It was Obi-Wan's turn to laugh. Numa stared, eyes widening. "No, no," he said in-between laughs, "I made her mad and now she is getting revenge. I dumped paint on her head after she insulted my butt."

He laughed again, this time Numa joined in. A few guests turned their heads, but didn't hold their attention for long. After a few moments the laughter died out. Obi-Wan wiped his eyes.

"If it is any consolation, Jedi Obi-Wan, I have watched you and you have a very nice butt."

The pair laughed again.

"If there is any way I may help you, Jedi, please ask. It is tragic to be forced to hold onto another's arm just to make them look better."

A glint flashed across the young Jedi's mind. "Numa, do you know what a food fight is?

* * *

Preview for the next chapter:

_"Look out!" Cried Obi-Wan. The cart was moving too fast. He couldn't stop it. It was going to hit the senator and it was all Numa's fault._

_Thank the force for that, he thought._


	6. Food Rocket

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

I don't own Star Wars or the characters but I do own this story and any original characters so no touchie unless you ask and let you. Thank you.

**EDIT 5/6/10:** fixing some small errors and formating

Sorry for any OOCness. I don't know what it is about these two, but they like to be silly. I think Obi-Wan's youth brings out the best in anyone. Besides, I hate dark broody Qui-Gon that people constantly write.

* * *

Numa smiled as she excused herself for her lunch break. Obi-Wan had been dragged off once more by the sinister woman but Numa had a plan. It would all happen fast, faster then even the Jedi had planned. She snickered to herself, happy she could help the Jedi save himself from the senators clutches. She told herself it wasn't revenge, that wasn't the Jedi way. They both agreed—it was self-preservation.

Ducking to the small kitchen off to the side of the long table she spotted one of the things she was looking for. The small cart was metal with two shelves. One shelf, on the top, had a small lip and a cloth draping in graceful folds over the side. Removing the cloth, she found the second, lower shelf, already covered in plates with tart. Grinning, she pushed the cart in front of her, past the chefs, the dish pit and the clanking noise of a working kitchen. Making her way out of the kitchen, she moved to the back hall, spotting the back patio. Leaving the cart, she crept along the wall, slipping outside she slithered, heading for the last piece of her mission.

Obi-Wan had been given another reprieve. The Senator had excused herself, along with several other women, to fix their make-up. Rolling his shoulders, the small Jedi looked at his master.

The elder frowned, looking into his students eyes. "Your plotting something" he stated.

Obi-Wan rose a delicate eyebrow, "I'm sorry?"

"No, your not. What are you plotting?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "Honestly, master. When could I have found the time to plot something? What could I do, for that matter? I'm stuck to her like glue."

Qui-Gon reached out through the force but it would give him no answers. Instead, the swirling masses seemed to be laughing at him. The force had often given him this same feeling. Most often is was when his apprentice was planning something that somehow amused the force. The master was attuned to the living force more then his student, so it was discomforting to have it laugh at him. How Obi-Wan managed to pull such a response to the always moving waves was a mystery Qui-Gon. He had long given up trying to find answers but now, tonight, it frightened him.

"That is true, my apprentice. However, you have been away from her side. Now that I think about it, the young woman you spoke to at the refreshment table is missing. Now even the force seems to mock my attempts at answers. You have done something, set something in motion. What is it?"

"Master," stared the accused one, setting his glass on a passing tray, "Her name is Numa and she is entitled to a lunch break. I am not, at this time, plotting something. We talked about the senator a little bit. Numa mentioned it was a tragedy what the senator is putting me through and offered her help should I need it. If she plots anything to come to my rescue, I cannot be held responsible. She is her own person. The only thing I mentioned was a deep desire for a loud distraction so that I might escape." He smiled, eyes lighting.

Qui-Gon frowned. Obi-Wan was up to something, just not personally. "Mentioned? Did you mention anything specific? Egg her in anyway?" He was growing concerned, the force pulling away from him in his attempt to grapple it down.

"Only the implausible. This isn't the temple. Food fights don't work with a room of stick-ups."

Sighing, Qui-Gon pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to quell the headache he could feel.

"Obi-Wan—"

Before he could utter any other words a high-pitched whining filled the air. Guest's turned their heads to and fro, listening for the source of the sound. Across from the kitchen, the women exited the powder room, listening. The whining and buzzing increased in volume.

Obi-Wan looked to the kitchen door.

Suddenly a silver streak zipped by. So fast was it moving that the two Jedi almost missed it. The silver bullet was a wheeled cart covered in tarts, being propelled by firecrackers. The cart headed directly across the room, straight towards the powder room and the senator.

"Look out!" Cried Obi-Wan. The cart was moving to fast. He couldn't stop it. It was going to hit the senator and it was all Numa's fault.

_Thank the force for that_, he thought. _Unless…_

Thinking faster then would be possible for many others, Obi-Wan gathered the force around him, pulling a refreshment table into the path of the speeding cart.

The effect was immediate. The cart crashed into the table, jolting the solid form forward a few inches. The food on both the cart and the table continued the forward momentum of its transferred energy.

Guest's screamed and gasped as the tarts and treats hit the women standing in shocked fear in front of the powder room. The firecracker fizzled out, smoking a bit on the end. Some guest's stared with wide-eyed awe at the spectacle while others patted Obi-Wan on his back. Looking behind him, he saw his master, face resting in his palm where it had fallen in dismay. Looking farther he spotted Namu. She looked shocked, dismayed, and terrified. That is, until he met her eyes. Her eyes smiled and laughed. He looked once more at his master. Qui-Gon glanced up past his fingers.

_//I think we should leave right about now//_ He told the older man.

Qui-Gon's left eyelid twitched. _//Speeder, Temple, shower, meditate. In that order. That is your new plan; that is your new life. Out//_ Once more his head rested in his palm, hidden to the world.

Obi-Wan was more then happy to obey. He would be meditating until he died, but it would be worth it. Rushing out of the room, he made his way to the landing pad. The valet only took a few minutes to locate the speeder. His master and the senator would find a way home, of course. Jumping in, he revved the engine and shot out of the port into the fading sun.

Speeder, check. Temple, on my way.

Resting back against the warm seat, Obi-Wan finally relaxed.

_Speeder, Temple, shower, meditate. I like this new plan much better. For once, a plan that works the first time._

Mentally patting himself on the back, he cruised to the lower, and slower, traffic. His master said temple, he didn't say as fast as possible.

Closing his eyes, the light-haired Jedi took a deep breathe, flicking the switch to the over dome. The speeding breeze rushed over the Jedi, relaxing him with its cool tendrils.

_All systems are che—_

The main dash beeped loudly. Obi-Wan stared at the red flashing light, trying to quell his panic. The speeder demanded an oil change, hardly a concern. Then the craft gave a jerk downward. Obi-Wan clutched the wheel, pulling back hard, aligning himself with the flow of traffic.

_An oil change. Nothing to worry about_

The craft jerked again, diving into lower traffic. Pulling back as hard as he could, Obi-Wan rose the craft, increasing his speed to the higher lanes.

_Starting to worry. Ok, land. Landing would be good about now. Figure it out later, land first._

He glanced around fighting the controls as the craft once more attempted to descend.

_Oh no you don't!_ Obi-Wan declared, swerving the malfunctioning speeder down and around lanes. Ahead, an empty lot jutted out. The lot was for a local club that wouldn't open its doors for several hours. There was plenty of space. Obi-Wan closed the over dome.

Changing lanes once more, Obi-Wan felt and heard something sputter out. His speed maintained the current level, but he found the craft dropping.

_I can go forward but I can't hover? Repulsor plate?_

Obi-Wan pushed the throttle as the craft descended. He knew he wouldn't make that platform. The force swirled around him. Concentrating on the sound, he waited.

_There_

Giving the wheel a hard jerk, the small craft rotated to the left illegally moving across several lanes of traffic. Sirens wailed behind him.

_Perfect_

Straight ahead and a little below the craft jutted out another platform. The city was building a new club and seemed to be putting the finishing touches on the parking lot. Obi-Wan steered as well as he could manage, aiming the swift craft to the platform, all the while the sector police chased him across the dodging traffic. Obi-Wan felt the engine begin to sputter. He was so close to the platform, just a few more yards.

The engine cut as the craft soared over the platform edge. Slamming the emergency bailout on the dash, Obi-Wan braced himself in his seat. The craft was too high and going too fast, he had no choice. The over dome blew off the craft as his chair shot out of the craft. Floating down in the slowly descending chair Obi-Wan watched in horror as the speeder slammed into the platform, bouncing into a parking partition and began rolling along the unforgiving metal. As his chair hit the deck the speeder hit the first pillar of the almost finished club. Obi-Wan unstrapped and stood; the wreck had finished moving, skidding to a halt in the clubs entryway.

_So much for plans A, B and C_

"Young man," clipped an officer, striding to the ginger-blond Jedi, "does this belong to you?"

* * *

Stay tuned for the last chapter! That's right, folks, it ain't over till the green troll has his say.


	7. The End

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

Last chapter!

I don't own Star Wars or the characters but I do own this story and any original characters so no touchie unless you ask and let you. Thank you.

**EDIT 5/6/10: **fixing small errors and formatting a bit.

Sorry for any OOCness. I don't know what it is about these two, but they like to be silly. I think Obi-Wan's youth brings out the best in anyone. Besides, I hate dark broody Qui-Gon that people constantly write.

* * *

Jail changes a person.

Obi-Wan paced the small cell he had slept the night in. Over 34 counts of traffic violations along with the owner of the building arriving. It hadn't been the best conversation, or a conversation at all. Obi-Wan heard the sirens blaring as the fire was put out and the wreck was moved. The temple had not responded to several calls made, trying to locate a guardian. Qui-Gon's com was mysteriously switched off. Having no way to reach a guardian, an officer escorted the apprentice to the local office where he was processed and shoved into a cell.

The night hadn't been too bad. He had meditated, falling into his restless mind for several hours. The cot was lumpy and thin but he had slept in worse.

Turning, Obi-Wan continued to pace.

The door at the end of the hall opened in a rush of hydraulics. A protocol droid shuffled in, followed by Obi-Wan's master. Qui-Gon frowned as we edged up to the cell bars. Obi-Wan bowed his head.

"Master," he began, only to be interrupted.

"Take a look at this."

A data pad was slipped between the bars. Skimming the contents, the light-haired man smirked.

**Heartbreak Hotel**

_By Shin'lar Ket-ven_

_Arriving, once more, at the senate gala, I did not know what to expect. Each year the senate gathers to toast the continued success of democracy within the Republic. Who would break up with who, who would find love and who would end up humiliated? Each year is filled with surprises and shocks._

_This year, the party had a double dose of pain and humor brought to us courtesy of the Jedi Temple. Jedi apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi, student of revered Jedi master Qui-Gon Jinn, will go down in history as the life of this years celebration._

_Entering gala, I had the opportunity to observe this incredibly tolerable young man. Kenobi, 14-standard years, pulled up in a gloriously classic speeder, already the envy of this reporter. Politely, the young Jedi opened the door for his master, a respectful move, before helping the Senator of Droom, Miss Van Kale __Vermilliono, to the red carpet. Senator Vermilliono shocked the crowed by announcing the young Jedi as her date before moving to the main hall._

_For the entire event, young Kenobi could be found attached to the young senator. Senator Vermilliono, who is 15-standard years, showered Jedi Kenobi with more affection the many have ever seen. "It was very cute," Senator Chen told us, "though he did look a fair bit uncomfortable with all the attention."_

_The night took it's first turn when Jedi Kenobi was spotted sharing a joke and laugh with one of the servers, the 17-standard year old Numa Che. "He was such a kind person. I have met many Jedi over the years. Obi-Wan was honest and sweet, as anyone his age should be."_

Obi-Wan snorted, she would think so, wouldn't she? He continued.

_From that moment on, Senator Vermilliono seemed to keep Jedi Kenobi as far away from the refreshment table as possible. Was it possibly jealousy that caused this? Regardless, the events that unfolded shortly after will go down as the senate's most glorious disaster of party history._

_An unknown individual attached firecrackers to a roll away cart covered with fresh tarts. The super powered cart sped directly from the kitchen, with no witnesses, towards the ladies powder room. Senator Vermilliono was one of the guest's exiting at the time. With reflexes only a Jedi could have managed, Obi-Wan pushed a wayward table into the path of the projectile. The collision cast the food straight onto the guest's in front, namely Senator Vermilliono._

_It is unknown what occurred to the young Jedi, as he seemed to vanish directly after the incident, however, Master Jinn attempted to calm the raging senator. "I have never seen her this angry. I thought her face would match her hair!" declared Senator Val'taream._

_It was then that the truth came out. Calling the Young Jedi several names not suitable for print, she cursed his very name, along with his mother (in some form). "Why can't my revenge ever go as planned?" She yelled._

_According to an inside source, Kenobi had previously dumped a can of paint onto the senator. The story had been retold several times, however a few key components were left out. Specifically, Kenobi had done it intentionally and the senator had insulted him one too many times. Several senators interviewed said they were on the side of the Jedi. The young Princess A'ne was heard to say that "Vermilliono is a mean and spiteful person. She does her job well, but she is vengeful and malicious. Good for Obi-Wan. He is truly a Jedi to have been brave enough to knock her down a peg."_

_Obi-Wan Kenobi, you should be given an award for surviving the day. You are brave, for allowing the senator to parade you around; respectful, for not calling her out in public; and most of all, you brought life to a lifeless event. The senate would be wise to invite you to more events._

"How much trouble am I in?" Asked the jailed apprentice.

Qui-Gon looked around the room before glancing into the cell. "A lot, by the look of it."

Obi-Wan grunted, not caring to remark on the dry humor. The droid opened the cell, allowing him to leave. Following his master, the smaller Jedi shuffled along. "How long am I meditating for this time, Master?"

Qui-Gon was silent as Obi-Wan padded several paces behind. He glanced over his shoulder. "Only a few, for the cart. The speeder was not your fault. I am sure you listened to the force and did as you should to land with as little damage to you or surrounding people." Looking forward once more he added, "How about lunch instead. Jail food is dry and unappealing."

The diner was slow, having very few guests. Taking a corner booth along the long glass window, the Jedi rested. Qui-Gon had been merciful and allowed the boy to change and shower before they left again to eat. Once more in his baggy, comfortable robes, Obi-Wan sighed. Rolling his shoulders into the plush backing of the booth, Obi-Wan glanced over the menu.

Two glasses clanked onto the table. Looking over his menu, Obi-Wan spotted a tall glass with a clear fizzy drink. In front of his master, an orange one. "I'm sorry," he said, confused, "we haven't ordered any drinks." Looking up, he tightened his jaw, afraid it would drop.

Standing next to the booth, order pad in hand was Numa, her blue skin glowing in the natural sunlight passing into the window.

"I'm just going onto break. I thought you might like a drink." She said, smiling, her perfect teeth glistening.

Qui-Gon rested his menu onto the table. "That was very thoughtful of you. Would you like to join us? It is no trouble at all."

Nodding to her, Obi-Wan slid across the seat, leaving room for the younger woman. She slid in, smiling over her shoulder at Obi-Wan.

"So," began the apprentice, taking a sip of his drink, "how did you know I was going to stop the cart from hitting her?"

She smiled.

* * *

Well that's it. I think this one is done. I like Numa, I think I may have to write her into another story.

Have fun and thank you for sticking with me! Until the next time, May the Force be with you.


End file.
